Her cheeks flushed a dull red. He drove her home that night, kissing her again and again at stoplights. She could hardly speak to me; she insisted relentlessly upon a separation. It was all highly intriguing. He knew the circle of mountains about Saas Fee fairly well: he had been there twice before, and it was fine to get away from the straggling pedestrians into the high, lonely places, and sit and munch sandwiches and talk together and do things together that were just a little difficult and dangerous. Only I am not an acquaintance at all. “Who are you—Annabel Pellissier or her ghost?” Anna laughed. She laughed softly, and leaned across the table. Occasionally the mere fact of lying in bed became unendurable, and she rolled out and marched about her room and whispered abuse of herself—usually until she hit against some article of furniture.
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